


Operation: Savin' Raven

by TheNightbloodSolution



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotions, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, Pining, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 06, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Time Travel, not spec because this would never happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-12-18 06:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18243878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightbloodSolution/pseuds/TheNightbloodSolution
Summary: When Raven has an encounter with the poisonous death flower on the new planet, it's up to Clarke to go back in time to save her. Ending up on a mission with the version of her co-leader from the dropship wasn't her original plan, but things happen the way they do for a reason.





	Operation: Savin' Raven

**Author's Note:**

> So, I just spent the last month or so binging 12 Monkeys and while I absolutely despise the concept of time travel theoretically (it doesn't make sense!!!), that show is amazing and what inspired me to write this fic. So, if you've seen it and the concept of how time travel works seems familiar, that's kind of what I was basing it off of for this fic. Although, all the science-y mumbo jumbo is just stuff I pulled out of thin air with no research, so uh... don't expect high quality there.
> 
> Also, just wanted to address that though the title is camp-y because I couldn't resist myself, the fic is markedly less jovial and more... light angst and Clarke being Emotional, so just dropping that here so you don't feel misled.
> 
> Also also this was written before the trailer came out, not that it really matters, but yeah it'll be own construction of what the new planet is and not Sanctum.

The locals are friendly, the new planet is not.

It starts with a simple thorn pricking the finger of a mechanic. Her body goes limp as she crashes to the ground without warning.

“Help!” Shaw shouts as he rushes into camp, Raven lying still in his arms.

Clarke is there first, followed quickly by Bellamy.

“What happened?” Clarke asks.

“I- I don’t know, we were just out walking and then she collapsed.” Shaw responds, lowering Raven gently onto a bench.

Clarke places her hand on Raven’s forehead, but it’s cold to the touch, no signs of fever. She goes for the pulse next, and finds it faint, but there.

“Think, Shaw,” Bellamy says, “can you remember anything else? Anything Raven might’ve touched or-”

“What’s the commotion?” Bellamy is interrupted by Kaia, their people’s ambassador on the new planet.

“Raven fainted,” Clarke explains, not missing a beat as she continues her medical examination. “She and Zeke were out walking and she just collapsed.”

Kaia goes bone still, stiffening her spine. “It was sudden?” She asks.

Zeke nods, “I’d say dehydration but we had our water packs with us and she was _drinking_.”

“Were you near the flowers?” Kaia asks, her usually calm demeanor shifting slightly as she plays with the loose strings on her sleeves. “Purple, with a ring of white around the petals?”

“Yeah, I think so, we were by those… and the orange ones I think?”

Kaia gulps, turning to Clarke. “The purple flowers.” She says slowly. “They are poison, native to this planet. Look for any cuts from a thorn.”

Raven’s hand feels heavy in Clarke’s, not live enough to bear its own weight. Her fingers are small and delicate, and as Clarke stares at her friend’s blank face, eyes closed and lips parted, she’s reminded how fragile she is without the façade she puts up. Their sturdy mechanic isn’t as tough as she comes off.

Clarke turns over her right hand and finds a bit of dried blood on the index. “Found it.”

Kaia leans over to inspect. “That is from the death flower.” She confirms.

“ _Death_ flower?” Shaw shouts. “What do you mean death flower?”

Kaia backs slowly as both Shaw and Bellamy inch toward her, eager for answers. Clarke’s eyes bore into Kaia’s, but she won’t let go of Raven’s hand to make a move.

“There is no cure.” Kaia says quietly. “I’m sorry. She has twenty-four hours at most.”

“Bullshit, there is no cure.” Bellamy says, voice even. He doesn’t shout the way he once might’ve, back at a dropship or in Arkadia. His tone is deadly enough as it is, flat and even. “Why are we only just being warned about this death flower? Why weren’t we told to avoid it?”

“We didn’t think there were any in this region. They’re more common in the East. We didn’t think it’d be a problem.”

“No, you didn’t think.” Bellamy narrows his eyes.

Kaia halts her steps back. She is a trained warrior, as well as an ambassador, and the whole camp knows this. “I am sorry for your loss,” She says firmly, “but this happens in our world. The death flower has taken many from us. I lost my grandmother to that flower, but there is nothing to do about it. The cure died out over thirty years ago.”

Clarke’s head shoots up, blonde hair hitting her face as she jerks toward Kaia. “So, there was a cure?” She asks desperately.

Kaia nods. “Many years ago, a plant grew, an antidote, but it got overused and the crop was undergrown. By the time people realized we didn’t have enough of it, it was too late. The crop died out.”

“Do you have a picture? Anything? We could still go looking for it,” Clarke’s blue eyes swim desperately, looking for a life boat to save her friend.

Kaia stays still a few seconds, assessing the situation. The man she knows to have been the mechanic’s lover has ceased talking; he stares at the ground, unable to process. The man she has spent the most time with in their settlement, their leader, is firm and strong, but his eyes tell a different story, he is scared. And he is unwilling to show it. The girl, though, the other leader, she wears her emotions on her sleeve, eyes brimmed with unshed tears and a mouth set in a line of determination.

Finally, Kaia nods. “I have a book, with pictures. I can show you what the cure looked like, but you will not find it.”

Bellamy and Clarke follow Kaia back to her tent, while Shaw stays by Raven’s side.

The brush of shoulders as they stride behind the ambassador reassures both coleaders, though neither says it aloud.

Kaia’s blue tent is sleek inside, nicer than any of the new settlers. She has tech and gadgets from Eligius III, access to more resources than any of the Earth settlers can afford yet. But what she pulls is not a tablet or screen, but a dusty, blue book, with a worn cover and a broken spine.

It looks like history to Bellamy.

Kaia flips through pages fast till she finds what she’s looking for.

A flower to cure a flower. This one is blue – bright blue, unnaturally colored for any sort of flora. Its petals are long and exaggerated, drooping slightly as they extend out from the middle.

Clarke frowns at the photograph. “I know that flower.” She says.

“That’s impossible,” Kaia responds.

“No,” Clarke shakes her head and states again, “I _know_ that flower. It grew by the dropship back on Earth. I used to pass it all the time on my trips gathering medicinal herbs. I never knew it had curative properties.”

Bellamy wipes at his brow. “That’s not gonna help us find it here. We need to institute search parties, get everyone looking for that flower.”

Clarke nods, but Kaia grabs her as she starts to turn for the exit of the tent. “Wait,” Kaia says, “You’re sure you know this flower on Earth?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“I think I can help,” Kaia says earnestly, and her eyes read truthfully, “but I need to take you to Russell.”

“How’s a politician going to help us find an extinct flower?” Bellamy asks, arms crossed.

“I can’t explain that here,” Kaia responds, “But if you trust me, and we take a couple hours ride to the city, there’s a chance your friend could live. If you look for that flower for the next twenty-four hours, she _will_ die.”

Bellamy and Clarke share a look, a conversation without words. The society of Eligius III had been accommodating and welcoming since they’d arrived, but there’d been no free handouts. They were expected to start their own colony with little help, to govern themselves. But Kaia has been nothing but honest thus far, and they have nothing else to go on.

“I’ll gather a team.” Bellamy announces. “We leave in ten minutes.”

***

Bellamy, Clarke, Emori, Murphy, Echo, and Shaw arrive in Glass, Eligius’s main city in just a few hours, as Kaia said. The city is just as looming as the day they’d arrived, tall buildings and paved streets, a far cry from the dirt and tents they’d pitched for their camp. Murphy had remarked that it seemed like living a life of luxury, staying in the city, but Clarke could only see the City of Light when she stared at the skyscrapers.

Russell was the kind of man who exuded an air of authority. Short cropped hair and a pasted-on smile, charismatic and warm in the falsest way. Clarke’s instincts had warned her against him when she’d first arrived, it was all too familiar to the way Dante had smiled at her, but she realized soon that it wasn’t secrets keeping that smile on his face.

Russell radiated leadership, yes, but it was the kind he was born into. He was made from succession, came from a long line of Russells before himself, all with that same false smile. He was a politician, not a leader. He didn’t have genuine authority, like the kind Bellamy had built for himself since he took charge on Earth. Russell led because his family before him led, not because he was a leader.

“Clarke, Bellamy,” Russell says jovially, not bothering to address the others, “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

Kaia is the one who ends up answering. “One of theirs was pricked by the death flower, so I showed them a picture of the cure.”

“The cure is extinct.” Russell says automatically.

“Clarke recognized it,” Kaia continues, “The flower used to grow on Earth.”

“On Earth…” Russell trails off. His eyes stop roaming over the newcomers and fixate on Kaia, “You can’t be serious.”

“Think of the lives it could save,” Kaia grits back. “The death flower has taken from us for too long.”

“Someone mind explaining what this is about?” Murphy asks, “As much as I _love_ hearing vague cryptic flower talk, our friend is _dying_ back home, so I’d kind of like to get around to the saving her part.”

Russell seems to contemplate, eyeing the party before him. Fear is so clearly burned on all their faces, but more than that, they are determined. And if he gives this the okay, determination is what they’ll need.

“Follow me,” Russell says, leading them out of his office and into an elevator. He pushes the top button once they all clamber inside, and they rise fifteen floors to the highest level of town hall. The room here is unlike Russell’s office. It’s void of color on this level, no carpeting; everything is metal and chrome. Lab coats run around the room with papers in one hand and devices in the other, barely stopping to glance at each other as they pass.

“This is our research level,” Russell clarifies. “All the new projects in technology that we’re working on happen here. We’ve recently completed something that could help your situation.”

“And that is?” Emori asks, frustrated. They’re all tired of waiting for answers.

“A time machine.”

“A _time_ machine?” Murphy snorts.

“Yes, a time machine.” Russell responds seriously. His politician façade has dropped. “We’ve only managed to send back plants so far, and we’ve never tested human life, but we know it can handle organic matter, so it should work.”

“Say you really have a time machine,” Bellamy responds when everyone else is at a loss for words. “How would that help us? You want to send us back in time to stop Raven from pricking her finger?”

Kaia shakes her head. “This time machine, we’ve been using coordinates from the oldest Eligius files. It’s something our people have been working on since we landed on this planet. It was originally supposed to be about transportation back to Earth, so the core is in sync with Earth’s gravitational pull.”

“In other words…” Murphy prompts.

“It can only take you back in time to Earth. There’s no going forward. And there’s no traveling back on this planet. But if the cure is on Earth, one of you can go back and get it and we can replicate it here. We can bring the crop back. No one has to die from this again.”

“You’d trust us to go back in time and get the flower for you?” Clarke asks suspiciously.

Kaia meets her gaze. “I have spent time at your camp; I know how you value your mechanic. You will not let her die. If one of us went back,” She gestures to herself and Russell, “We would not know where to go.  You know the terrain, you know the flower, you can help us.”

“This is insane.” Echo says.

“Nuts,” Emori agrees, “And I’ve piloted a spaceship before, but this is… a lot to believe.”

“I want to save Raven,” Shaw says, speaking for the first time in hours.

Murphy rolls up his sleeves. “Well, fuck it. I guess I’m down for us going back in time. For Raven.”

“For Raven.” Clarke echoes.

“For Raven.” Bellamy agrees.

Kaia frowns, “I think you’ve misunderstood.” She clears hear throat. “Only _one_ of you can go. The machine is only equipped to trace one energy signature.” She sees the wary looks she gets in response, “It’s not an impossible mission. If you need help in the past, we’ve got something for that too, a memory serum you can use if you need to talk to someone; once you give it to them, they’ll forget their recent memory, up to a few days. Since you said this place is somewhere you once lived, you can talk to a friend, can you not? So long as you give them the memory serum and they forget, it won’t affect the time stream.”

Silence follows her statement.

“We’ll need the exact time and location for you to jump back to. I’ll give you all a bit of time to decide who’s making the jump.”

***

“I’ll go,” Echo says, resting her elbows on the stainless-steel table they’ve all seated themselves around.

“No,” Murphy responds immediately, “It can’t be you. Or Emori. It’s gotta be someone who was at the dropship.”

“Murphy’s right,” Bellamy agrees, “If they see a grounder, they’ll shoot on sight.”

“That’s assuming we go back to the time you were all at the dropship, why not go back earlier? That way you won’t have to deal with delinquent camp.” Emori chimes in.

Clarke shakes her head. “We can’t be sure the flowers were growing before we touched down. And even if they were, that was grounder territory before we got there. It’ll be easier to deal with a hundred teenage delinquents than a camp full of hostile grounders.”

“A hundred teenage delinquents and Bellamy,” Murphy corrects.

Clarke smirks. Bellamy scowls.

“So, we jump back to the dropship.” Clarke recaps, “Post whatever-the-hell-we-want. Bellamy and I will be leading, and I know the flowers will be there. So, me, Bellamy, or Murphy go and we talk to one of the delinquents, find the flower, I know I had some in medical.”

“It can’t be me, then.” Murphy shakes his head. “I’m banished, remember?”

Bellamy winces slightly. “Right. So,” He turns to Clarke. “One of us.”

Clarke’s smile is weary, but sincere. “Isn’t it always?”

Clarke waits for the inevitable, for Bellamy to rush to put his hat in the ring, say he’ll take on the world. She’s been expecting him to do it since they had all sat down to discuss.

Instead, he says quietly, “I think it has to be you.” He bites his lip. “I want to go, but this mission… I think it has to be you. If we go back to the Dropship days, I’m not someone people trust. Even when you and I were leading together, all the kids looked up to you for support. It wasn’t Camp Jaha or Arkadia yet, I was more feared than respected back then.”

Clarke argues, “The camp loved you, Bellamy-”

“Clarke.” He cuts her off. “Not the way they loved you. Not at that time. If you go back, _anyone_ you talk to will get you that flower. Anyone will help. We need a guaranteed success for Raven, and you going back gives us that.”

Clarke thinks about how Raven looked after fainting, pale and small, her delicate hand smooth against Clarke’s. She thinks about the smiles Raven’s given her in this life, when she landed on Earth, when Clarke got back from Mount Weather. She thinks about Raven’s laugh and she thinks about her eyes, always full of life. Clarke would always pick her first.

“I’ll do it.”

***

As Clarke sits in the chair, ready to be sent back in time, Bellamy grasps her hand, almost too tightly, threatening to cut off her circulation. With Murphy at her other side, it’s all oddly reminiscent of another journey, but that one was inside her mind, whereas she knows this one will be all too real.

A nameless lab coat checks some levers on a dashboard and drones, “Remember, the past can be easily changed, so stay out of sight of anyone except the person you’re giving the memory serum to. You only have enough for one dose. Make sure you don’t run into yourself or you could create a paradox, which would implode the timeline. Try to stay more than ten feet from yourself at all times to be safe.” She lists off risks like this was standard procedure at a doctor’s appointment. She hands Clarke a small black remote with a red button. “When you’ve got the cure, press this button, and we’ll trace your signal and get you back here.”

“Implode the timeline, no biggie.” Clarke huffs under her breath.

“Hey,” Bellamy squeezes her shoulder with his free hand. “You got this.”

“I’ve got it,” Murphy snaps out of nowhere. “The perfect name for the mission.”

Everyone turns to look at him quizzically.

“Operation: Savin’ Raven.”

Emori slaps his arm, “Seriously, John. Raven could _die_.”

“And I’m sure she’d want the _goddamn time travel mission_ to save her life to have a cool name,” Murphy bites back, “Every part of this is ridiculous. We’re giving it a name.”

“Operation: Savin’ Raven.” Bellamy confirms.

“Let’s do it, then.” Clarke agrees.

“I’ll need you all to back away from the subject.” The lab coat says. Everyone does so willingly, except Bellamy, who takes an extra second to squeeze her hand and look into her eyes.

She can tell what he’s saying without saying anything.

_You can do it._

And for Raven, she really thinks she can.

“Initiating jump in three, two, one-”

***

Clarke blinks her eyes open to a blue sky, paler than the one she’s been seeing on the new planet. That sky is garish and bright, but this one is soft, covered partially by clouds. Grass is soft beneath her body. She sees trees all around her.

 _Earth_. She’s back on Earth.

Clarke scrambles to her feet and takes a look around. She’s in a clearing, not far outside the Dropship camp, but still in grounder territory, so she books it for the woods and the protection of tree cover.

As she darts through the trees, each memory she passes tugs at something in her heart. A bright blue butterfly. A deer. Berries she dyed her hair with. The Earth was home for so long… but Eligius made it clear. She can’t change the time stream. She’s just here to get the flower and go back.

Her memory of this part of the woods is better than she thought it’d be after six years in Eden, nowhere near the dropship camp. She’s outside the camp in less than an hour; the wall is still being built, but it’s only partially up. She slips around to the back section, an open area where no wall has been created yet. She ducks behind a crate and contemplates who she should go to.

She needs someone who’s going to believe something this ridiculous. She contemplates posing as herself momentarily, but she knows it won’t work. Beyond her hair being chopped short, she doesn’t look seventeen anymore. Her eyes have seen too much, she has put on weight and muscle from six strong years in Eden that she didn’t have after the malnourishment of the Ark. She’s an adult, and the Clarke who landed on Earth is just a girl.

Her first thought is Monty, because if anyone besides her is going to know the flowers, it’s him. She just needs to find him.

A familiar voice hits her ears and stops not far from the crate she’s tucked behind. She stills and holds her breath.

“I’m telling you, Clarke.” A deep, gravelly tone she knows invades Clarke’s senses. “The grounder has been leaving a trail of flowers for her. That’s how Octavia’s been finding him.”

“I think you need to worry _less_ about how she’s finding him and _more_ about the guards that are letting her sneak past them.” Clarke’s own voice is a shock to hear, it’s higher and carries a hint of righteousness she doesn’t remember, though this conversation is vaguely familiar.

Before she can listen to any more, she remembers what the lab coat said. _Paradox_. She needs to get away from herself. Clarke sprints back into the woods outside camp.

She doesn’t know how to get to Monty, but maybe she doesn’t need to. She just needs to get into camp, to get to med station herself and she can pick out the flower. All she needs is an in.

And she knows just the way to draw out a Blake.

***

Planting the white lilies is a tedious process, but she needs to make sure the path can be followed. So, they go in every tree, every nook and cranny on the way back to a cave she’s found. Not Lincoln’s (her heart tugs at the thought of him), she can’t risk running into him, but a cave. And then it’s a waiting game.

 _Come on, Octavia,_ she thinks. _Follow the flowers._

By the time she hears boots crunching her way, the sky has darkened. She’s been tracking lines on the cave wall, making patterns with them. The Earth is jagged and full of edges in a way the new planet could never be.

She’s ready to be face to face with a butterfly chaser, a girl expecting to see her first love, a girl full of hope. But then she hears a gun cocked.

She sits up.

“Now, listen up, grounder,” The gravel tones that meet Clarke’s ears make her heart start to race involuntarily. “You almost let Finn die. Octavia let you go, but if you don’t stay the hell away from her-”

He steps into the cave light coming from the fire she’s made. His jaw is angular and smooth, the way she remembers Bellamy, _her_ Bellamy, not the one from space. His hands grasp tightly around his hand gun. And his eyes. His eyes are so young, still much too old for his age, but young all the same. He has seen things he never should have, but he still has so much to learn.

“Bellamy,” She whispers. Her blue eyes meet his brown ones.

“Clarke?”

He takes another step toward her, his curls falling slightly into his eyes. His hair is shorter, but so much more unruly than what she’s used to these days. She used to cut it for him, once or twice. The thought makes her bite back a smile.

“What’s going on? Why do you look like… your hair…” He trails off.

“I need your help, Bellamy. What I’m about to tell you, it’s going to sound insane, but I need you to trust me.” She makes sure to hold his gaze. “Do you trust me?”

Barely a whisper. “Yes.”

Clarke nods, suddenly nervous. Her hand wants to fiddle with a piece of her hair, or tug at her shirt threads, but she needs to appear confident if she wants him to believe her.

“I’m not the Clarke you know. Back at camp, there’s another Clarke, the one from this time. But I’m… from the future, and I need your help finding something, a plant. It’s a blue flower and it grows around here. I know I have some back in medbay, and all you need to do is sneak me back inside the camp.”

His eyes narrow. “The future? What is this, some kind of joke? Did you set this up with Spacewalker? You just cut your hair and thought you could mess with-”

“Bellamy,” Clarke cuts him off, stepping forward to cover his hand with her own. “Look at me. You know that’s not all that’s different.”

“You can’t expect me to believe this, Clarke.” His voice breaks on her name.

She takes a step backward, suddenly getting an idea. If she can’t tell him, she can show him. Turning slowly, she lifts the back hem of her shirt, just high enough for him to see the scars.

“Holy shit, Clarke,” Bellamy breathes, stepping toward her but stopping just short of touching her, “What happened to you?”

“Burns. From Praimfaya,” Clarke explains, “But Praimfaya _hasn’t happened yet_. How would I have gotten these on the Ark? Or even on our time on the ground, they wouldn’t have had the time to heal yet, Bellamy.” She drops her shirt and turns back to face him. He’s so close to her now, she can smell the Earth radiating off him, scented of dirt and pine.

“You’re from the future?” He questions, not daring to believe it but not finding any lies in her face.

“Yes.”

“And you need my help?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s do it.”

***

They crouch outside the dropship together, just beyond the perimeter. A large metal piece of the wall obscures them from view as they plot the best way to sneak into their own settlement.

“Tell me again why we can’t just walk in?”

“No one can see me, Bellamy. Especially not myself. If I see myself, the world might explode.”

“ _Explode_?!”

“Yup.”

“Sneaking it is, then.” He peers around the corner to where Sterling and Conner are sitting on guard. “They’re only watching the front, if we run and stay low, we can get to medical through the back, there’s a hole in the wall we haven’t finished yet.”

“How do you know there won’t be anyone in medbay?” Clarke questions.

“The only one who goes in at night is you,” He tilts his head toward the campfire, “And you’re over there.” He’s right. She’s sitting with Monty and Jasper, eating god knows what off a stick and she’s laughing, too.

Being with young Bellamy is mesmerizing, his confidence, his bravado, so sure of himself, and yet, trying to hide that he doesn’t know what he’s doing. She sees the cracks in his armor now that she never saw when she led with him, at least, not at this time. But seeing herself, this version of herself, is even more jarring. She’s scarred, sure, not like she is now, physically, but emotionally. The weight of her father’s death sits in her shoulders, and her smile isn’t as big as it should be, but her smile is there. She’s trying to be happy, and she’s succeeding. Clarke can’t remember the last time she laughed like that.

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice snaps her back to attention. “Clarke, you okay?”

“Fine, so our plan is just… sneak through the back?”

“You got a better one?”

Clarke shrugs, “I’ll follow your lead.”

They whip past some crates stacked with supplies, then duck behind the nearest tent. Checking again that the coast is clear, they run a bit further to the next tent, then the next. They’re almost at medbay, when-

“Bellamy!” Raven calls. Clarke ducks behind the nearest tent while Bellamy straightens and walks toward the girl, caught. “I’m working on the prototype,” She lowers her voice, “For the bomb, like you asked. But I’m having trouble with the chemistry. I can’t get the ratio, I think we need more gunpowder.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy glances quickly to where Clarke is hiding and then meets the mechanic’s eyes, “That’s good. We can work on that tomorrow.”

“ _Tomorrow_?” Raven fumes, crossing her arms. “The grounders could be coming any minute!” She exclaims.

Hearing her voice full of fire spurs Clarke on; this is what she’s doing all this for, she’s here to save Raven. And this is the perfect distraction. She slips past the tent and enters the dropship through the front while the delinquents have their attention focused on Raven and Bellamy’s verbal spat.

The dropship metal cage is familiar, but not homey. Clarke feels like she should hold a certain nostalgia for this place, for its red seatbelts and hideous orange blankets strewn across the floor, but it’s not home. When she thinks of home, she still sees Eden, its large lakes and green valley. She sees Madi’s smile and the rover she repaired. (She sees brown eyes, too, when she thinks of home.)

Rushing up to the top level, she sifts through the bucket filled with her medicinal herbs. Greens and yellows and oranges stare back at her, but no blues. She digs through the pile. A cure for the common cold, herbs that go in sunscreen, hell, even a few Jobi Nuts are in the bucket, but no blue flowers.

For just a second, she doubts herself, thinks she made the whole thing up, that the droopy blue flower never existed. Then, a memory flashes behind her eyes. Finn, tucking a flower behind her ear, neon blue and almost glowing, and she smiles back at him.

The flower exists, she knows it does, it’s just not here.

“Goddamnit!” Clarke hits the floor of the Dropship, the metal reverberating back. She’s wasted all this time trying to get into camp when she has to try and find it out in the wild anyway.

She hears the click of the latch as someone tries to climb up to the second level. Quickly, she puts the herb bucket back down and shrinks into the shadows of the Dropship, praying she won’t be found.

But it’s Bellamy’s head that peeks up from the ground. “Clarke?” He asks, looking around.

She emerges, a solemn look painting her face. “It’s not here. I have to go out and get it from the woods.”

“Shit,” Bellamy mutters, “How far away are they? Do you know how to find them?”

Clarke rubs her forehead. “Vaguely? It’s been a while. But it’s a couple hours walk, and I’m on a time crunch, so I have to go now.” She makes a move to head down the ladder.

“Wait, I’m coming with you.” No hesitation.

“No, Bellamy, they need you here. I can do this on my own.”

“Clarke, there are grounders out there. You could get caught or killed. What would that even do to time, if you died in the past? You need backup.” His mouth is set in determination.

She knows the look on his face, it’s the look he gave her when he insisted they bring guns back to camp. The same one he wore when he said he’d be their inside man in Mount Weather and she told him she couldn’t lose him. The one he gave her when he said it’d have to be a kill shot. He was coming with, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

***

A small perk of being out in the woods is that they don’t have to sneak anymore. Be quiet, sure, but there’s no crouching involved, she’s not afraid another delinquent will see her, or worse, that her younger self will see her and the timeline will implode.

It’s just fresh air, a dark forest, and a coleader she knows so well, but he barely knows her at all. He grips his gun tightly, afraid they could be attacked any moment.

“You sure you can navigate in this lighting?” He gestures to the sky and the trees around them, only illuminated by the moon.

“I’m pretty good with terrain,” Clarke responds, thinking back to her time in Eden. So much land traversed, at night, in day, with Madi, on her own. She’s explored maybe more than any other Sky person.

Bellamy nods, but can’t stay silent for long. That’s something she notices about this Bellamy. The Bellamy she knows now can sit with her in silence for minutes, hours, reassured by nothing but each other’s presence, but this Bellamy is always talking. There’s always another question, another comment, another gruff calling of, “eyes sharp.”

“How old are you?” He asks as he jumps over a large log in their path.

She contemplates what to tell him as helps her over the same log, too big for her to climb on her own. His hand grabs her forearm and she hoists herself over the log, landing on the other side with a small thud.

She thinks about telling the truth, that she’s over a hundred, that he is too, but there’d be so much to explain. She’d have to tell him that the Earth is gone, she’d have to tell him about Praimfaya, the first and the second, and it all seems like too much for a boy who’s already slightly broken.

What she settles on is, “Twenty-four.”

“Damn,” Bellamy says, “I would’ve thought older.”

Clarke quirks an eyebrow at him, though it’s almost too dark to see. (She can still make out his slight blush in response.)

“I mean,” He corrects quickly, “Just that you act older. Not that you look… I mean, you look amazing.”

Clarke snorts, “It’s fine, Bellamy. I’m not going to be offended if you don’t like my hair,” she teases.

“I love your hair,” He responds, more softly than Clarke expected. “You just seem so wise, you know? Like you’ve got it all figured out. But you’re only a year older than me right now. It makes me feel like I should be there.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke grabs his hand momentarily and squeezes, the same way he did for her right before she went back in time, “You just got dropped on a new planet. There are _people_ on the ground trying to kill you. And I’m pretty sure your sister is constantly trying to give you a heart attack,” he smiles a little in response, “You’re doing the best you can. And in six years, you’re going to be even wiser than me, I guarantee it.”

Bellamy snorts, “At least that confirms I’ll be alive in six years.” A beat of silence. “Is Octavia okay? In the future, I mean.”

Clarke tries not to let her face tell the truth, that Bellamy hasn’t spoken to Octavia in months. On the new planet, the only person Octavia has been interacting with has been Diyoza, and Hope, now that she’s born. Wonkru ousted her as their leader, so she no longer confers with Madi or Gaia or even Indra. Bellamy has yet to forgive her, and Octavia has yet to try to earn that forgiveness.

“She’s alive.” Clarke responds.

“But is she happ-”

Bellamy’s cut off by an arrow, slicing way too close for comfort. It lands squarely in a tree behind them. He grabs her hand automatically and tugs.

“Grounders, we’ve got to run!”

Their feet which had just been treading so carefully and silently across the forest now thud and crash with every step. They sprint in every which direction, hoping to evade who-knows-how-many grounders chasing them.

An arrow misses Clarke by a hair. More running.

Another arrow. Bellamy curses. More running.

“Are you okay?” Clarke calls through her panting, but he doesn’t respond, just clutches his left arm and keeps moving.

That’s when Clarke sees it, a latch, rusty and worn and hidden under a thicket of plants.

“Bellamy, stop.” She calls and runs over to the latch. “Help me pull this.”

He joins her and uses his good arm to tug with her. The door shoots open and they hop through the roof, Clarke quickly pulling it shut once they’re inside.

“Where are we?” Bellamy asks.

Clarke surveys the familiar scene. Colored pencils, a makeshift bed. She walks over to a table and picks up something long forgotten. The metal is cool in her hands and tears prick the back of her eyes. A two-headed deer stares back at her, attached to a chain and forgotten on a table. In a car. An old, useless car.

“It’s a van. I found it with Finn and Wells.”

“And you didn’t tell us? There are supplies in here, Clarke,” He says incredulously.

Clarke rubs her arm. “Finn called it… our place. Somewhere just for us.”

Bellamy’s eyes don’t soften, though she doesn’t expect them to.

“Here, there’s bandages in here, let me look at your arm.” He tries to tug it away from her, but her reflexes are better, faster.

She grabs his arm and pushes up the short sleeve, inspecting the cut. Not too deep, but she remembers Lincoln’s arrows, dipped in poison, and she can only pray these were not those.

A bit of the alcohol is leftover – she can’t believe she remembers drinking that bottle with Finn and Wells – and she uses it to clean his wound, holding him steady as he flinches. The bandage comes next, tied to his skin with a small strip of cloth.

“You feel okay?” She asks.

Bellamy shrugs, “I don’t think it was poisoned, Clarke. Finn collapsed right away, remember?  I think it was just an arrow.”

Clarke nods, “I hope so. You’re not allowed to die just yet. I need you too much.” She gives him a shy smile.

Bellamy leans back against the makeshift bed. “I guess we’ll just wait it out here, then.”

“Yeah,” Clarke breathes.

There’s a weird tension in the air now. It’s not something she’s used to feeling with Bellamy on the new planet. That Bellamy is always comfortable and warm, just being with him makes her feel safe.

“I can’t believe you and Finn didn’t tell us about this place.” He can’t stay silent for long. He meets her eyes. “Are you two still…”

“No.” A repressed memory comes back. His blood, her hands, brown hair. _Thanks, Princess_. “No, we’re not.” She hopes her voice isn’t as thick with emotion as her head feels.

“What’s it like?” He whispers, almost too soft for her to hear. “Being in love?”

She watches as he lays his back on a pillow and his curls fall straight into his eyes. His freckles stand out against his face in the low candlelight available in the van. The new planet may have two suns, but Bellamy must be getting less exposure nowadays, because she’s shocked by the intensity of the freckles staining his face in this time. She wants to count them, trace them.

“It’s different,” She responds. “It’s different every time.”

“I’ve been in love three times,” She continues, lowering herself onto the bed next to him, but an arm’s length away. “The first time was fun. It was like being free. I could just stop thinking when I was with him, I didn’t have to be the leader, or the responsible one, I could just be Clarke. Or a lighter version of me, I guess. I thought he made me better.” She rests her own head on a pillow. “Then he broke my heart, and that’s how I think I really knew it was love. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if it wasn’t.”

“The second time was different. She was intense and passionate. We were barely even friends before we were more. She loved me, I could see it in her eyes, but I wasn’t sure I loved her. There were little things, though, that I told myself I did for others. I think I was really doing it for her. She was gone before I could really get a grasp on what I felt, but…” She gathers her thoughts, “That was love too. It was short, and fleeting, but it was real.”

Bellamy rolls onto his good arm to face her. “What about the third time?”

Clarke keeps staring at the ceiling, pausing before continuing on, “The third time was slow. I didn’t even know it was happening. He was always there, so I just thought we were what we were. I loved him while I loved the others, so I didn’t know it was love. You never think you can be in love with two people at once, but you can.” She can feel his eyes boring into her, but her gaze remains fixed upward. “And then he was gone. And that’s when I really knew, because living without him was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Did he come back?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“And you’re together?”

“In a sense,” she shifts awkwardly, “I get to spend a lot of time with him. He’s always there for me. But love isn’t just about how I feel, it’s about him, too. I’m just happy as long as he’s happy. I want him to live his best life.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy says softly, tilting her head to face him. “He’d be an idiot not to love you back.”

***

Clarke wakes up engulfed in warmth and with a buzzing, contented feeling spreading down to her toes. There’s a weight around her side, and with no defenses up, she doesn’t hesitate to burrow further into the heat source.

When the heat source shifts, that’s when she knows. _Bellamy_.

She smiles drowsily and peers up at his messy curls, worsened by bed head. They’re chopped short, the way she likes it, and knowing it’s his arm around her makes her feel even safer. Any minute someone will come pounding on her door, she’s sure, and demand they get up and start making plans to save the world from the Death Wave. She’d rather stay here, though, warm and comfortable.

Her eyes start to drift back shut when she absent-mindedly registers her surroundings. This isn’t her room in Arkadia, it’s too dark and too small. It smells too musty and the bed isn’t soft enough. She stiffens. This isn’t her Bellamy, the one who planned for the end of the world with her; it isn’t even the one she left in the future, the strong, sure Bellamy who matured in space. This Bellamy is just a boy who’s seen too much but hasn’t even begun to see yet.

It all comes back to her. The mission, the flower, the grounders. Here she is _sleeping_ when Raven could be _dying_. She needs to get back to her own time with the cure to save her friend.

Clarke extricates herself from under his arm and hesitates only a moment before moving to gently shake him.

“Bellamy,” She whispers. “Bellamy, wake up.”

He groans.

“Bellamy,” She pushes harder. “We need to get going!”

“Okay, okay,” He squints up at her, as if piecing it together the same way she did after their rest. Clarke can’t stop her jaw from dropping ever so slightly when he reaches up and tucks a stray golden strand behind her ear. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

The woods have emptied in the hours they slept, waiting out the grounders. Seemingly, their hiding had worked, and all that was left now was to actually find the plant they were searching for.

The trees around her are such a lively green, and the pine smell that invades her senses is so distinctly Earth that it transports her back to her last big trek on Earth. She thinks of Madi first, walking through the woods with her, backpack slung over one shoulder as they ducked under trees and around logs. Then, she remembers what she was running to; to safety, to McCreary, to the end of the world, and away from her friends. Away from Bellamy.

There were some things she still couldn’t forgive herself for. Bellamy had, he’d told her as much on the new planet. He echoed her words from long ago – said they needed each other. But she wonders what this Bellamy would say if he knew, this Bellamy that is so much more heart than head, rationality barely ever crossing his mind. This Bellamy that lived on raw emotion and wore his feelings all over his face. What would he say if she told him she left him to die?

“Clarke!” Bellamy calls, snapping her out of her reverie. “I think I found it. It’s the blue one, right?”

“A lot of flowers can be blue, Bellamy,” Clarke replies matter-of-factly, “The one we’re looking for specifically is…” She trails off, looking down at the flower he’s hovering over. “That one. We’re looking for that one.”

The blue of the bud glares back at her, assaulting her eyes. She always forgets how bright Earth was when she first got there, before they destroyed it. The flower petals buckle under their own weight, barely able to support themselves, the stem too thin and small to support such large blooms.

She isn’t in a field of flowers, just a small patch, but all she needs is one, and the scientists can make more. All she needs is one, and Raven will be okay.

She bends down and plucks, sticking the stem into her pocket and letting the petals hang out.

Bellamy crouches down too, plucking his own and surveying it. He turns the flower slowly in his hand before shifting to look at her.

He reaches forward and slides the stem behind her ear. “For good measure,” he clarifies.

“Good thinking,” she replies breathlessly.

Clarke straightens up. Her fingers reach back and close around the cold, glass vial sitting in her back pocket.

When she pulls it out, the clear liquid taunts her, sloshing quickly in the bottle.

“What’s that?” Bellamy asks.

She uncaps the vial and tries not to let her voice waver. “I need you to drink this.”

He takes a step back.  “What is it, Clarke?” He asks again, slower.

She thinks about lying. She knows herself, and she could construct a masterful lie if she wanted to. She thinks about how she told all of Arkadia that they’d thrive, that they’d live. So, sure, she could lie. But looking at Bellamy, and smelling the Earth air around her, feeling the feelings she hasn’t felt since eighteen, she can’t lie to him. She just can’t.

“It’s a memory serum. You’ll forget the past few days at most.” She confesses.

“I’m not drinking that, Clarke!” He exclaims immediately, running a hand through his hair, one of the nervous habits she forgot he had.

“You _have_ to Bellamy,” Clarke pleas, “If you don’t drink this, nothing is going to happen the way it’s supposed to. You won’t be the leader you were meant to be, you’ll know who’s alive in six years, I won’t have found Mad-” She cuts herself off, breathing deeply through her nose. “It’s the only choice, Bellamy, don’t you understand that? If you don’t forget this happened, the entire timeline could be rerouted.”

Bellamy snorts angrily, “Only choice. You know that’s an oxymoron.”

Clarke’s heart stutters.

“ _Please_ , Bellamy.”

“I…” Bellamy looks out at the horizon, the sun rising in the distance. “I like knowing that everything is going to be okay. That Octavia’s okay. That I’m okay. That _you’re_ okay.”

“And you’ll still be okay if you forget. You _need_ to forget if you ever want to get there.”

“Am I happy?” He presses further.

“Yes,” Clarke breathes, thinking about his smile, the wide one she’s only seen since he got to the new planet. About the way he laughs with Emori when they share one of their inside jokes, or the smirk he gives when he sees Murphy and Raven arguing. She thinks about the small smiles, the barely-there ones that are reserved just for her, when they’re doing something together, something that makes them the co-leaders once again.

“Are you happy?”

This response isn’t immediate. She thinks about Madi, and the time they’ve gotten, not as much as she’d like because Madi trains so much with Gaia, but Madi’s alive and happy. She thinks about the camp, having a place to eat and sleep and _live_ without the threat of constant war.

And then she thinks about Bellamy, not her Bellamy from Arkadia, or the Bellamy standing in front of her, but the new one, the one she’s getting to know. She thinks about his calming presence, or the way he’ll let her rest her head on his arm when they stay up late together. She thinks about his voice when he tells stories, the same ones he told at the dropship, but somehow, they seem happier now, more optimistic. She thinks about him longer than she thinks about anything else.

“Yes,” Clarke admits, tears threatening to spill over her eyes, “I’m happy.”

“Is it me?” Bellamy’s line of questioning continues. “Am I… Do you love me?”

Clarke lets out a choked laugh, wiping at her nose. “You sure do have a lot of questions.”

Bellamy’s gaze drops to the floor. He kicks gently at the dirt, dislodging a small rock. “I just… I want to be the good guy. I want to be able to get there.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke says, not touching him, but commanding him to look at her with her voice, “You’re a good man. You’re not him yet,” Clarke thinks about this Bellamy, how he tied Atom up to a tree, thinks about how they tortured Lincoln, and brought guns to their meeting with the grounders, all the mistakes they made, “But you will be. One day.” Her eyes burn into his eyes. “I promise.”

She takes a step toward him, feeling the heaviest sense of déjà vu as she leans up to kiss his cheek, gripping him with all her strength. “May we meet again.”

“May we meet again,” He says softly, stepping back and taking the vial from her hand.

Clarke pulls out the device the scientist gave her, the small black box, and clicks the red button. The world starts to swirl around her; she sees him down the clear liquid as the colors around her start fading and her mind gets heavier and heavier.

“I love you,” She whispers, for herself alone to hear.

***

“Clarke,” Her eyes flutter open to Bellamy’s face inches away from hers. “Clarke, are you okay?”

Clarke gulps. He’s so close. “Fine,” She responds, softer than she means to. Shaking her head, she pulls herself upright in the chair, Bellamy having to dodge back sharply. She digs a hand into her pocket to pull out one of the flowers. “I’ve got it,” She states.

Kaia crowds closer to her, inspecting the flora. She stares in awe. “That’s it. You really got it.” The smile that forms on her face is genuine. “We can replicate this, make sure the cure is available for everyone.”

Russell reaches out to grab the flower, but Clarke subverts his hand and gives it to Kaia. “Go,” Clarke says, “Start working on replication.” Clarke plucks the other flower out from behind her ear, then looks at Bellamy, “We’ll take this one back to Raven.”

Russell frowns. “That isn’t practical. We only have two- we should work on replicating both and then you’ll have the cure to take back to your friend-”

“ _No_.” Clarke says firmly, eyes sharp. “I got you your flower like you asked. This one is for Raven, and we’re leaving _now_.”

Bellamy places a hand on the small of her back, shifting to stand beside her in support.

Before she can think about the stand they might have to take, everyone is behind them, Murphy, Echo, Emori, Shaw. They’re all standing with her.

Kaia steps in front of Russell, nodding at them. “Thank you, Clarke. I’ll have my driver take you back to your camp. There is no way to show thanks for how much you have done for us.”

“Letting us save our friend is enough.” Clarke responds.

Though Russell’s face doesn’t lighten, no one blocks their way as they ride the elevator down and stroll out the front doors of City Hall. They leave the city behind them, tall buildings fade smaller and smaller as they drive away, every inch taking them closer to the girl they need to save.

***

Arriving back to camp, it’s as if nothing has changed. Former Eligius and Wonkru members mill about, having various tasks to complete. Some carry wood, others chat idly by the fire.

The group is barely spared a glance as they rush through camp to Raven and Shaw’s tent.

Jackson remains by her bedside, where they left him, now accompanied by Miller.

“You got it?” Jackson asks.

“Yeah,” Clarke breathes, and Jackson scooches aside to let her through next to Raven. The girl hasn’t moved an inch in the hours they’ve been gone. Her fingers are still slightly curled and her lips still slightly parted. Clarke feels for a pulse, which is somehow even slower than it was when she’d left.

Wasting no time, she reaches her hand out. Bellamy hands her the paste they crushed the flower into on the way back. Slowly, she tilts the bowl and lets the contents slip past Raven’s lips.

Everyone crowds closer in anticipation. She can feel Bellamy’s head above her left shoulder and Shaw’s above her right.

After what seems like an eternity, but may actually be but a minute, Raven’s eyes burst open.

She blinks a few times, adjusting to the light. “Um… why is everyone staring at me?” Her voice scratches.

Clarke lets out something between a sob and a laugh, then feels Bellamy tug her back slightly. Clarke steps out of the way to let Shaw through.

Shaw doesn’t try to hide the tears rolling down his face as he kneels next to Raven. He grabs her hand and squeezes. Clarke feels her heart pound at her ribcage, seemingly growing in size as she watches Shaw bend down to kiss Raven.

“We should give them their privacy,” Bellamy’s voice bellows through the tent, commanding in a way that Clarke hadn’t realized she had missed. But she had. She missed her co-leader. The current version of him. She missed this Bellamy.

Everyone crammed inside Raven’s tent crowds quickly outside, releasing a collective breath they didn’t know they were holding. Emori collapses her head on Murphy’s shoulder. Echo finally drops the sheathed arrows she’s had strapped to her back to the ground for the first time in hours. Clarke’s watery smile is pasted on her face. And Bellamy?

Bellamy turns to Clarke and throws his arms around her. She relaxes into him immediately, wrapping her arms around his firm middle.

He burrows his face into her neck and whispers into her skin, “I knew you could it.”

When he finally lets her go, she steps back far enough to take him in fully. This Bellamy.

“Thank you,” She says. “For believing in me.”

For all the versions of him, strong and confident or lost and small, he’s her Bellamy.

And she loves him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case anyone was wondering, I wanted to mention that it was intentional that I left it ambiguous whether or not B/echo had broken up in this fic. As I was writing, I was going from the POV that they hadn't, which contributes to why Clarke is so introspective and has so many emotions (and because if they had, Bellarke would be banging in two seconds flat), but I really wanted to leave that up to you guys to decide. So, however you chose to interpret that part is up to you and totally valid.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this fic in the comments.
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](https://clarkgriffon.tumblr.com)


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